


Wishing for a Future as Bright as the Stars

by stareyednight



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Captain America: The First Avenger, F/F, Female Bucky Barnes, Female Steve Rogers, Marriage Proposal, Period Typical Attitudes, Post-Captain America: The First Avenger, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Rebecca 'Becky' Barnes, Stephanie Rogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 20:21:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9784790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stareyednight/pseuds/stareyednight
Summary: “But, how do you know?” she asked her mother as they dried the dishes together one night. “How do you know that you’re going to marry someone?”Before, during and after the stories inBrooklyn Girls.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Tried to get it under the line for Valentines Day. Mostly just sappy and a bit angsty, but love always wins.

1.

When Amy McGinty’s wedding was coming up, Steph became a bit obsessed with love and the idea of marriage. At eleven years old, the idea of staying with someone forever seemed a little daunting but she also knew that that’s what everyone tried to find and then celebrated with a wedding when they did.

“But, how do you know?” she asked her mother as they dried the dishes together one night. “How do you know that you’re going to marry someone?”

Sarah Rogers paused, dishtowel in hand. “Not everyone is as lucky as us, but I knew when I fell in love with your father that all I wanted to do was spend every one of my days with him. He was the most important thing in the world to me, before you came along, and I knew I wanted to go wherever he went. I used to feel so warm in my heart when he was near and, goodness, my heart fluttered so when he smiled.” She stroked a hand over Steph’s hair. “One day, my sweet, you’ll find someone that you never want to be apart from and that’s when you’ll know.”

They resumed drying the dishes and Steph turned this new information over in her head. It seemed like an awfully simple answer to a question so many people fretted over. “That’s easy then,” she said, passing her mother a bowl. “I’m going to marry Becky. She’s my best friend and I want to be with her always.”

Sarah smiled, tweaking Steph’s cheek. “She is the best friend a girl could have, aye, my little one. But you’ll see as you get older that while a best friend will stay with you always, she will move to the side to let your husband through. And, if she’s as spritely then as she is now, Becky’s going to make sure he’s a good one, too.” She winked and Steph smiled, but privately she thought her mother might be wrong. She couldn’t imagine ever wanting to spend all her time with anyone but Becky.

Steph kept mulling this over into the next day and was still thinking about it while she waited on the stoop for Becky to come over. When Becky came skipping along the sidewalk, brown curls bouncing as she laughed and dropped herself down beside Steph, Steph felt certain her mother was wrong. The warm sunshine-y feeling that bloomed in her everytime she saw Becky couldn’t be anything but what her mother described and she felt that little flutter in her chest when Becky smiled at her (at least, she was pretty sure it was Becky’s smile and not her asthma).

That was okay, though. They had a long time to go before they needed to think about getting married and she was sure her mother would understand by then.

 

2.

They were laying in bed together, legs tangled and wrapped up as close as they could get. Steph had her head on Becky’s chest and Becky was tracing her fingers along Steph’s shoulder and down her arm. The light the lamp cast in their bedroom was golden and it felt like they were trapped in a bubble of time, limitless and preserved.

“I wish,” Becky started, then stopped.

“You wish what?” Steph asked, eyes closed as she memorised the scent of Becky’s skin. When no answer was forthcoming, she nuzzled in closer and tried again. “What do you wish, Beck?”

“I wish I could marry you,” she said finally, voice cracking and Steph opened her eyes to look up at Becky. “Like some of the guys have done before they ship out, they marry their girls, or promise to when they come back. I wish I could kiss you on the dock before I go and carry a photo of my best girl with me.” A tear leaked out the corner of her eye and Steph reached up to brush it away. “I want to give you a ring and that promise and have it be real.”

“I wish we could, too.”

“I love you so much and it just not fair. I don't understand how what we have is wrong. How can loving someone this much be wrong?”

Steph sat up and kissed the tears as they worked their way down Becky’s cheeks. “I don't know, sweetheart, but it can't stop us loving each other.” She stroked Becky’s hair tenderly as Becky nodded, scrubbing her face with one hand. 

“I know, I just want to give you everything you deserve, like a love that you don't have to hide or people thinking you're a spinster nobody wants.”

“Listen, I don't need a ring, just the promise. It doesn't need to be real by anyone else's standards, just by ours.” Steph framed Becky’s face with her hands. “I'd marry you in a heartbeat, Rebecca Barnes, and that's all that matters to me.” She leant in and pressed their foreheads together before kissing her sweetly. “I'm always going to love you, til the end of the line.”

“Me too, babydoll. Always.”

 

3.

The Howling Commandos could sleep anywhere, would sleep anywhere, and a bombed out church somewhere in France wasn't even the least comfortable they'd been. It still had half of it's roof and four mostly intact walls, so it was at least as warm as a tent and allowed their fire to heat the side they’d chosen without losing most of it to the wind.

No matter how they protested or how many miles of mud they slogged through together, nothing Becky or Steph could say would keep the other Commandos from giving them a sleeping space apart from the men. Steph had frowned the first few times, but Becky had grown used to their casual chivalry during her time with the 107th. There wasn't much place on a battlefield for the gender divide, but it was nice sometimes to have that ten extra feet away from Dugan’s snoring or Dernier’s boots.

Becky also thought it was nice to have a little extra cover to sneak a goodnight kiss or even thirty seconds of her best girl in her arms. Like now, laying in their bedrolls side by side and listening to the others settle down across the room. Jim was finishing a nightcap and Monty was on watch out the front door and she and Steph were holding hands under the blankets that just so happened to overlap between them.

“Do you remember what you said before you left?” Steph asked her, all of a sudden, voice low. She turned over onto her side to face Becky, still holding Becky’s hand. 

Becky turned her head to look at her. “I said a lot of things, sweetheart, most of them variations on ‘I love you’.” Steph gave her an unimpressed look and Becky nodded, swallowing. “Yeah, doll, I remember.”

“I was in church not long after you shipped out and it was all I could think about. You'd be so beautiful all in white with flowers.”

Becky could feel the tightness in her chest, where the keen burn of wanting lived, and she exhaled as she tried to keep her emotions at bay. “You too. Like a fairy princess then and an actual queen now.”

Steph looked up at her, hesitancy in her eyes. “I was thinking maybe, when we get back, I might get you a ring? I mean, you couldn't wear it on the right finger, but maybe on your pinky or the other hand?” She was running her thumb over Becky's ring finger as she looked up at her and it took every ounce of will for Becky not to cry with all the wanting she felt.

“God, yes,” she managed through a tight throat, clutching Steph’s fingers.

“And I thought, too, when we get home, we could even look at getting a house, maybe get out of Brooklyn and have a place together?”

Becky managed a quiet chuckle even with Steph’s earnest words hitting her in the heart. “Steph Rogers leave Brooklyn? I never thought I'd hear of it.”

Steph rolled her eyes fondly. “I'd do anything for you, for us. A house together and if we're away from Brooklyn we could say that we're cousins, or even widows helping each other out, and no one would know any different.”

“You've given this a lot of thought.”

Steph blushed, barely visible in the dim. “I had a lot of time on my hands on those USO tours.”

The thought of them keeping house together, somewhere no one knew who Steph Rogers and Becky Barnes used to be, was a better dream than anything Becky could have come up with herself. She'd hoped that Steph would settle down with a guy who loved her as much as Becky did and liked her best friend enough to let them stay close by, but the idea Steph floated took root in her and unpacked itself rapidly, unfolding a future in front of her eyes.

“If we're going somewhere new, then maybe you could be the Barnes and I'd be Rogers. Stephanie Barnes and Rebecca Rogers.” Just saying it gave her a thrill that she tried to suppress.

Steph’s grip on her fingers tightened and her eyes widened. “Oh,” she breathed. Her face softened into the sweet, bashful smile Becky liked so much. “And, my thought was if we say we're war widows, we can wear rings, but they can be the ones we get each other.”

Becky’s chest did the tightening and frisson that she associated with loving and wanting Steph so keenly. The way Steph talked about it made it feel so real and attainable, like all they needed to do was just survive this godforsaken war and it could be theirs. She pushed back the cynical and sad parts of her that were trying to creep in and, after a quick check, leaned over and kissed Steph.

“Well, we've already done sickness and health, less richer but a lot of poorer, and now sealed with a kiss in a church?” Steph’s smile was sly.

Becky sputtered a laugh that she tried to keep quiet. “So this was a crafty plan to get secretly hitched? Hell no, my girl is getting flowers and a new dress and a church with a roof, I won't stand for anything less.”

Steph giggled and carefully moved in for one last kiss, quiet but intense. “I love you, Beck.”

“Love you, Steph.”

 

4.

The Winter Soldier’s recovery brought with it more quiet than Steph usually associated with her Becky. There were times she wouldn't speak for a whole day, just following Steph with her eyes or staring at nothing, but screaming herself awake at night as her mind re-lived missions or even created new horrors. 

Steph would race to Becky’s room and then hover at the doorway, watching for a sign she was needed. Sometimes Becky would be sitting up, shivering and arms wrapped around her knees. Other times she'd still be trapped in the nightmare and Steph would slowly edge closer to the bed and call Becky’s name until she woke up. Tonight was an awake night and by the time Steph got to the door, Becky was sitting up with her knees drawn up to her chin. Her arms, one flesh and one metal, were wrapped around her legs tightly and her long dark hair spilled over her shoulders like water.

“Hey,” Steph ventured, leaning on the doorframe and trying for casual.

“Hey,” Becky croaked back, her voice hoarse from shouting. “D’you think I could, could I have a glass of water?” She was still getting used to asking for things when she wanted or needed them and Steph felt pathetically eager to help whenever she did ask.

“Of course, I’ll be right back.” It was only a minute before she returned, but Becky had let go of her legs and was slowly uncurling. Steph passed her the glass and Becky drained half of it in one go.

“Thanks,” she said. She was a ninety-seven year old international assassin with a metal arm, but she looked lost in the middle of the bed, surrounded by an ocean of tangled sheets.

“Do you want me to stay for a bit?” Steph asked and Becky thought about it for a moment before she nodded. Steph tugged the sheets into better order and slid in beside Becky, making sure to leave her plenty of space. Becky finally laid back down, resting her metal arm on her stomach.

“Do you want to talk about anything?” Steph asked. She always asked and the answer was different depending on the nightmare. Sometimes it felt like a game of ‘Real or Not Real’ (thanks, Clint, for the Hunger Games series) to discern the truth from the nightmares.

“No, I think this one was an actual nightmare. Rivers of blood pouring out of the walls and trying to drown me. I’m pretty sure that never happened.” They were silent for a moment, breathing in the ambient light coming in through the windows before Becky spoke again. “I was dreaming though, before it turned into the nightmare. I’m not sure if it was real or not?”

“Do you want to tell me? Maybe I can help with that.” Steph held her breath in anticipation.

“We were in a church,” Becky started slowly.

Steph chuckled. “We spent a lot of time in churches, Beck, we were Catholic.”

“No, it wasn't that, it was important.” Her brow furrowed as she tried to dredge the memory up. “Sickness, health, less richer and more poorer, and…” she looked at Steph. “Kissing. Did we get married?”

Steph choked on air. Becky had only just started remembering their relationship, and they had yet to attempt anything more than sitting close, some cuddles, and the occasional hug. But, of course she would remember this.

“No, we didn’t, we couldn’t...” She took a deep breath, because she would still tell the truth and she didn’t want to make Becky doubt any of the memories slowly coming back to her. “We talked about it, though. One time, in France, we were sleeping in a church and we, we made some plans about what we’d do after the war.”

“She wanted to, I mean, _I_ wanted to.” Becky’s mouth twisted as she untangled the memory from between the Winter Soldier programming and parsed it. “It was all I wanted, but I was all messed up still from Zola and I remember trying to hold on to that goodness and that hope as hard as I could.”

Steph carefully reached out and let her hand rest beside Becky’s, just touching. Becky turned her wrist and caught Steph’s fingers with her own.

“There’s so much wrong with me, Steph. I’m broken and I don’t understand what you’re doing or why you’re keeping me around. I don’t know if you can fix me.”

“I don’t need to fix you, sweetheart, I just want you to feel better. You’re not broken, just hurt and I want to help you heal.” Steph squeezed Becky’s hand gently, reaching over to stroke the back of Becky’s hand with her other one.

“I don’t know if I can be her again.” There were tears gathering in the corners of Becky’s eyes, caught in her long lashes. “Part of me wants to, so bad. I want that hope and that love and to not be a murderer with a fucking metal arm. But, that’s what I am now and I can’t go back. I can’t be the Becky you knew again.”

“Beck, I’m not the same Steph I used to be. Definitely not the same as before the war and even more after I woke up. I just want _you_ , the core of you that still likes oranges and the colour blue and science fiction, and that I hope in some way still loves me. Even as a friend,” she hurried to add.

“How could you ever,” Becky started, the pitch of her voice rising and Steph’s heart dropped. “How could you ever think that there is a part of me that doesn’t love you? Hydra fried my brain for literal decades and they still couldn’t get me to let you go entirely. Stephanie Rogers, there is so much wrong with me I can barely count it all up, but I’ll never stop loving you.” Becky had turned her head to look at Steph as she finished and the emotion in her eyes nearly brought Steph herself to tears.

Slowly, still slowly and telegraphing her moves, Steph leaned in and Becky met her halfway for their first kiss in seventy years. It was wet from their tears and a little off centre, but it felt perfect. When they parted Steph leaned up on one elbow, careful not to crowd Becky but trying to be close. She gently traced her fingertip along Becky’s cheek and down her jaw before resting her hand over Becky’s metal one still resting on her stomach. “Is this okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s okay. Stay with me tonight?”

Steph tried not to seem as over the moon as she felt, but she must have failed by the small snort Becky made. Steph just pulled a spare pillow under her head and did her level best to stifle her grin. Becky was still holding her hand between them and her finger was stroking over the base of Steph’s finger.

“I’ve still got a lot of bad road ahead, I’m nowhere near whole yet and I can feel it. But, maybe somewhere down the line, if you still want to, we might get those rings?”

Her heart so full she thought it might burst, Steph brought Becky’s hand to her lips. “Babydoll, I’m going to hold you to that.”


End file.
